


A Ride

by MelyndaR



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: Prince Henry offers a ride to a peasant woman who has more on her plate than he had ever imagined.





	A Ride

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of an AU that I never really got off of the ground, but I got tired of seeing it sitting in my drafts, so I decided to polish it a bit and post it as a nice little piece of fluff. Hopefully you guys still enjoy it!

_This_ was not how Grace’s day was supposed to go. Snow whirled around her, so thick it was nearly blinding with winds so fierce and cold it stole her breath and nearly knocked her over. Even so, she held a screaming infant in the crook of her elbow, covering him as best she could in the folds of her old, thin cape. Her other hand was enclosed around the smaller, trembling fingers of a second boy, this one no older than four.

She had no way of knowing exactly how old the boys were now. All she’d known was that their horrid mother had a habit of daily send them out into the streets to beg – a toddler struggling to hold his brother, all day long, rain or shine.

She refused to consider whether they would’ve been sent out into even this weather. It was more than enough to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, getting home to her humble but _warm_ cottage, and getting these boys _out of the cold._

So she took a step, then another, and another, doing her best to urge on the poor little boy who had to trudge forward beside her.

She barely had time to register the tell-tale rattle and pull the boy in close before a carriage almost ran them over, not because of speed, but due to lack of visibility in the blizzard.

 _How she_ hated _the winters in Sherwood Forest!_

The carriage moved past, and Grace prepared to move on. She scarcely had time to take her tiny troop more than a few steps before the carriage approached _again_ , apparently having doubled back. This time it stopped in front of them, and fa dark-haired man opened the carriage door and stuck his head out, asking over the howl of the wind, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Where are you headed? Would you like a ride?”

“Another mile north.”

“My carriage can get you and your sons there much more comfortably.” He pushed the door of the carriage open. “Please. Come.”

Grace considered for a moment; she didn’t know this man, but it was only a mile, and she was pretty sure she saw a separate compartment at the front of the carriage for a driver. She chose to think of that as a good thing, chose to take the man up on his offer and said, “If you’re sure.”

He nodded once and scooped the baby from Grace’s arms without a word, receding back to his seat in the carriage. Grace lifted the boy into the contraption and followed after him. She shut the door before she sat across from the man, and even though it was still cold, it was blessedly quieter without the wind in her face.

“Thank you,” she gasped, shivering as she settled herself and the boy onto the bench. She kept him as wrapped as possible in the folds of her cloak and reached for his brother.

“Please, let me hold him,” the man requested as the carriage began to rattle forward. “I’ve warmth enough to share.” As if to prove his point, he wrapped part of the blanket covering his own body around the babe, who’s cries turned to mere whimpers as he curled into the man’s chest.

Grace surveyed the duo carefully before she nodded hesitantly. Really, what was the harm?

“You’re very welcome, by the way. Also, sorry for the lack of introduction. Terribly rude of me. I’m Henry Swan.”

“Grace Samuels.”

“And who is this?” Henry smiled kindly at the boy beside Grace.

From underneath horribly shaggy, unkept hair, with wide, dark eyes, the boy murmured, “Angus.” He sat up straighter, pointed to his brother. “’At’s Eliot.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all, Grace, Angus, and Eliot.”

“And you, Henry Swan,” Grace smiled politely, but as Henry returned to having a simple conversation with Angus, she discreetly looked over their surroundings – and their rescuer.

  The carriage was white everywhere, save for plush, red, velvet bench seats, and ornate.

The man across from her, she realized, was equally as well adorned – blue velvet waistcoat, white woolen shirt, sturdy black boots only speckled with mud. Everything about his dress was plain, but still clearly luxurious. And the man himself was young, no older than her with dark hair and bright eyes of the same color.

“Where are you from, Henry Swan?” she asked curiously.

He must be from a wealthy tradesman’s family.

“Misthaven.” His eyes swung from Angus to her. “And you’re from Sherwood Forest?”

“I’m actually from Misthaven as well. I spent my childhood there, then followed a man to Sherwood three years ago.”

Henry smiled. “Your husband?”

“No.” It was an exercise in self-control not to snort at the notion. “Definitely not. I’m not married.” Seeing the worried look on Henry’s face, as if he was concerned that he had struck a raw nerve – she liked to think he hadn’t – she added with a smile that was brighter than the whole of the situation warranted. “I still live with his younger sister in the town we’re going to, though.” I don’t know where he went, but he left me with her.

The ten – now twelve – other children she had taken in alongside Ivory were entirely her own fault, but this kind stranger didn’t deserve to be dragged that far into her life’s story.

Henry looked between her and Angus with confusion creasing his brow, but for the most part that was an expression – and a set of questions – that Grace had become adept at ignoring. These were her children, and that was all that anyone needed to know. To his credit, the man across from her seemed to put his questions from his mind; he must’ve realized by the increasingly wary look in her eyes that she wasn’t likely to answer them.

Instead, he chatted further with Angus, and at one point even offered once again to take Eliot from her so that she could give her arms a rest. She’d shrugged him off with a smile, informing him that she was used to having a child or two clinging to her at any given point in the day. He’d given her a quizzical smile… but all of his questions on that front were answered when they pulled up in front of her small cabin in Sherwood Forest.

No less than eleven children spilled out her front door, heedless of the snow still swirling in the air, as a strange carriage stopped in their yard.

Henry’s eyes widened as he turned to look at her. “These are all yours?”

“Yes. I’ve taken them all in.”

He drew in a slow, deep breath, looking out the window at them all again before he turned back to her and remarked, “You are a very brave woman, Grace.”

“And you are a kind man, Henry.” She smiled at him, thanking him for the ride as the carriage driver opened the door and she disembarked.

“Perhaps I will see you again?” Henry asked, and Grace didn’t know what to make of the strange hopefulness she thought she noted on his face.

She looked to her children, then back at him, answering only, “Perhaps.”

Because, really, with such a busy life and so many children, unless fate itself intervened, what more could she say?


End file.
